One Year, Six Months
by obstinance-as-an-artform
Summary: He knew that he depended on the memories of her like he depended on air to breathe. He needed them in order to survive, in order to pull through another endless day without her. RHr oneshot.


**One Year, Six Months**

Ronald Weasley trudged through the busy, bustling streets of Muggle London on a cold December afternoon. Snow had just started to fall, covering the rooftops of the shops he passed as he walked by. A biting wind had just started to pick up, and Ron stuffed his gloved hands deeper into the pockets of his cloak in a feeble attempt to keep himself warm. He shivered, sloshing through the slushy streets, avoiding eye contact with all passersby.

Ron felt the familiar tugging at his heart as his mind wandered off to thoughts of her. He had gone on this walk to clear his mind, to rid himself of thoughts of the girl that had long since been gone from his life. But as he walked through the streets that so reminded him of her, he found it impossible to focus his concentration on anything else.

It had been a year and a half since she had gone. A year and a half filled with nothing but despair and regret. A year and a half spent being miserable, isolating himself from those he loved, focusing on the pain that lingered inside of his heart. A year and a half spent trying to forget about her and the love that they had once shared, a love that still burned deep within the depths of his soul.

He had tried countless times to forget about her, but no matter how much he wanted to, he could never seem to succeed. No matter how many times he reminded himself of her broken promise, he couldn't stop himself from loving her. No matter how many times he told himself that she was gone and never coming back, he couldn't help but hope that one day he would see her smiling face again.

Ron stopped abruptly in front of King's Cross Station, overwhelmed by the bittersweet memories connected to this place. The first time he had seen her had been on a train that had departed from the old train station, almost nine years previously. He felt his heart leap as he remembered the first time he had seen her mane of bushy brown hair and her sparkling, chocolate brown eyes. He hadn't liked her then, but all of that changed as they grew together in friendship, and later, in love.

Ron walked past the train station, keeping his head low and his shoulders hunched. He wouldn't allow anyone to see the shining tears that were beginning to sting his eyes. No, he was too proud; too proud to let anyone see him weep for the girl he had lost so long ago.

He didn't want to remember her. He didn't want to remember the times they shared together, the happy, carefree days he had been so sure would last forever. He didn't want to remember how her eyes lit up when she smiled, or the way hearing her laugh brightened up his days. He didn't want to remember the scent that always lingered with her, the sweet essences of vanilla and cinnamon that seemed to intoxicate him as it filled his nostrils. He didn't want to remember the taste of her kisses, or the tingles that raced down his spine at her touch. He didn't want to remember his past that was filled with so many memories of her. He didn't want to remember anything about her, but he found that trying to push thoughts of her away only seemed to make him think of her more.

He knew that remembering her and the past that she was such a large part of would not bring her back. He knew that wishing for things to be different was foolish; he knew that his hopes would not change the way things had happened. He couldn't go back and change what had happened. As much as he wished that he could change the past, he knew that it was useless to dwell on it. Still, as he continued walking aimlessly down a crowded street, he couldn't help but lose himself in memories of her.

Memories were the only things he had left of her now. All of the letters, photographs, and mementoes...he had stuffed them into a box and shoved it into the back of his closet, promising himself that he would never look inside of it again. He couldn't put himself through the pain of looking through her old things, knowing that she would never come back to use them again.

Memories of her were what got him through the days since she'd been gone. He didn't want to think about her, but he knew that he depended on the memories of her like he depended on air to breathe. He needed them in order to survive, in order to pull through another endless day without her.

He remembered holding her in his arms on that night, one year, six months ago. The night when his entire world collapsed before his very eyes. He had held her lifeless body in his arms, cradling her in his lap, willing her to live. But he had known, even then, that she was gone. Her skin had grown paler, and the warmth that had always radiated from her body had quickly faded. He had run his fingers through her mass of curly brown hair, hugging her body close to his, unwilling to believe that the only girl he'd ever loved was gone.

Only a few moments after she had fallen lifelessly to the ground, Harry had taken the life of the man who had cut hers so drastically short. Harry had killed Voldemort, after he had taken so many of those he loved from him. Harry had avenged their deaths, all of them...but knowing that didn't comfort Ron, for it didn't matter if she had been avenged or not. She was still gone, leaving Ron alone in a cold, unforgiving world.

Ron continued on his walk through the streets of London, sadness once again settling itself within him. He would never forget her, no matter how hard he tried. He would never forget her smile, her laugh, her smell, her taste. His memories of her would never fade from his mind. His memories of her, Hermione Granger, the only girl he'd ever loved, would always remain with him.


End file.
